Gamzee's Hair
by AubreeLately
Summary: What happens when Gamzee encounters snow, and a bored Rose for the first time?
1. Chapter 1

**You are now Rose Lalonde.**

You live on an island in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, right of the coast of Australia along with fifteen other kids your age; 16. It was quite easy to fit all of you comfortably in the house, once the unneeded clutter was clear from various rooms. You all have been living on this island for quite some time now and never once has it snowed. That is until today. It's winter of course, and the entire island is covered in a thick blanket of snow, though the water surrounding is still warm enough to have a beach party. It's strange, but you've seen much stranger in some of your favorite books.

You are currently sitting in your room, shared with the troll of common interest, Kanaya. She was the only one whom you could bear to share living space with. Though there is much static between you two, you would rather be here than stuck with some of the other choices. You've spent most of the day just staring outside of your window at the foreign site. You've read somewhere that it's not safe to stare directly at snow, but you ignore your better judgment for now.

**You are now Gamzee Makara.**

You are currently wondering what the fuck all this white shit is that suddenly appeared. You have been glued to a window for the better part of an hour, and every so often you would wonder to yourself if all these mother fucking miracles will ever cease to mystify you. You highly doubt it. This is as close as you've ever been to a real, solid miracle; only a thin sheet of glass separating you. You want to embrace it, make yourself one. That would be mother fucking amazing.

You don't bother putting on a coat or mittens, or even putting on a hat. That is, if you even knew what any of these things were. Back on your home planet, Alternia, there was no need to keep cozy against cold weather, because there was none. You rush outside, disturbing the smooth and even blanket that lie upon the ground, digging a path through it with your feet. This shit was mother fucking cold! It soaked your polka-dotted pants all the way up to the knee, and sent shivers through your body. You might have cared more if you weren't so fucking high right now.

**You are once again, Rose Lalonde.**

What is that crazy Juggalo doing now? You watch as he romps through the snow like some St. Bernard puppy, then falls flat on his back, causing puffs of snow to drift up in massive swirls. You've told yourself that you would go outside, maybe sit down somewhere and read a nice book in the comfort of the great outdoors, but you haven't done that yet. Nothing is stopping you; you just haven't gotten around to it yet. So now the stoned troll clown is making a mess of the beautiful scene you were gazing upon. Now what will you stare at aimlessly?

You decide to just stare at him, aimlessly of course. Any troll would make a huge contrast against the snow, with their grey skin, black hair, and colorful wardrobe. You just find Gamzee's hair to be just a bit fascinating. It was long and messy, sticking up in every possible direction, like he'd never encountered a brush before, and he probably hadn't. It was amazing that his horns weren't snarled in the tangled mess. And the way he was lying, arms out to his side, legs spread, head lifted toward the sky. Almost as if he was absorbing the snow into his very being. Well, his clothes were absorbing it. He was damp from hair to toes, if trolls have toes.

It might have been your own fault that the trolls didn't know about proper winter attire. The humans were in charge of helping the trolls adapt to Earth life, and you all figured that the temperature would never drop below 80 degrees, so there would be no need to introduce winter clothing to them. Just look how wrong you were. Very wrong. You figure it is your responsibility to make sure he does not fall ill do to your lack of foresight. Time to go rescue an idiot.

**Believe it or not, you are now Gamzee Makara.**

You are freezing your grey ass off in this damn snow, but you don't care because you are smack dab in the middle of the greatest fucking miracle you've ever laid your eyes upon. You are quite stoned due to various foliage found on the island that, if consumed, keeps you high and mighty for hours. It's better for everyone if you keep your high.

You remember when you all first arrived on the island. You were about as sober as the snow surrounding you now, and you made everyone's life a living hell. Nearly beating the shit out of Equius, Nepeta, and Tavros because of a few misunderstandings, you were forced to share a room with Karkat. He's the only mother fucker who would put up with you. He's your best friend.

You look up at the sky, watching as snowflakes fall around you. It's a fucking miracle if you've ever seen one. Suddenly you hear footsteps, crunchy and damn loud due to the snow. Someone else has come to join the festivities of miracle watching.

"Gamzee, get up. I'm sure you're freezing down there." Rose Lalonde says, dressed in her signature pink winter gear.

"What the mother fuck is up, sister?" You say, tilting your head back slightly so you can look at her, albeit upside down. You grin a sharp toothed grin and pat the snow beside you, offering her a nice seat.

**Exactly as you'd expect, you are now Rose Lalonde.**

You look at the spot Gamzee Makara offered to you intently. You were planning to come outside anyway. Though your good book is inside of the house.

"Won't you come inside?" You ask again; glancing back at the house, then back down at him.

"And miss being out here to welcome all these miracle eggs into the world, hell no." He says smoothly, pointing up at the sky.

Obviously you can't reason with a person who is high. If you can't beat them, join them. You sigh dramatically and sit down, pulling your legs into a criss-cross position, and look up at the sky.

"Miracle eggs?" Do you mean the snowflakes?" You ask, holding out your hand and letting a few fall into your palm.

"Whatever, sister. They're just mother fucking amazing." He sighs and closes his eyes, obviously enjoying himself. Trolls were strange creatures, you must remind yourself to write a document about their culture and behavior. You turn your gaze to Gamzee and meet his bright yellow eyes. He was smiling.

"See, they like you." He reaches up and pets your hair. The gesture was interesting in its own way, but not unpleasant.

**You are… Gamzee Makara.**

This sister was okay, she gets you. She was a good listener and didn't try to saw your ass off for nearly killing a few people, unlike her roommate Kanaya. She was alright.

"Aren't you cold?" She muttered. Your eyes fall lazily in her direction, and once again you smile.

"Nah, sister. I'm fucking chill." You chuckle, reaching your long arms up toward the sky. "I could lay down some sick rhymes, I'm so chill. Care to join me?"

"No thank you, Gamzee." She sighed.

"That's cool."

"Your hair. Do you ever brush it?"

"What's a brush?"

"Never mind."

Speaking of your hair, it must be covered in all the miracle eggs by now. You'll let them nest there and soon they'll hatch into miracle grubs and you'll have your own family of mother fucking miracles. You sit up and wrap your arms around yourself. Damn it was cold.

"Here, you're covered in snow." Rose says, reaching up and brushing her hand over your head. She could brush away all the snow she wanted, but shit would go down if she touched your family.

**You are Rose Lalonde, once again.**

You stare at your hand in complete and utter shock. How is this possible? Your hand went right through his hair without a snag or tangle to get caught in. How could this be? You find yourself looking back and forth between your hand and his hair. This broke all the rules.

"What do you do to your hair?" She asked blankly.

"Hatch eggs." He sighed, reaching up to pet his hair softly.

"What…?"

"Well fuck, I only started today."

You arch your eyebrow incredulously. Maybe he was crazy.

"But before today, nothing. Kind of hard to do anything with what you can't fucking see, don't you think?" He looked up, raising his eyebrows and straining. You guess Trolls have never heard of mirrors, or he's just off his rocker. Oh, how you want to psychoanalyze him, find out which wheels aren't turning in the right direction.

"I'd better get inside before the eggs get too mother fucking cold." He rose to his feet, swaying slightly. Then he offered you his hand.

You look at it for a moment, realizing that Trolls don't have finger prints. You'll file that tidbit away for later. You take his hand and rise to your feet. He was quite taller than you, about Dave's height if not taller. How tall did Trolls get? Note to self: Do research.


	2. Chapter 2  Nightime Rendezvous

**You are now Gamzee Makara.**

You are currently chilling the fuck out on your bed, which is apparently the human version of a recuperacoon. It sure beats the shit out of sleeping in slime. You're slamming a jug of Faygo while watching Karbrother sleep. You for one don't give a shit about sleep; you're too busy tending to your family, which could hatch at any mother fucking time. You don't know when, you've never hatched these things before. Fuck, what you wouldn't give for some sopor slime right now. You were fucking bored, and you wish Karbrother would wake the fuck up so you'd have someone to talk to. Why not talk to that one female human you talked to earlier today. She was fucking alright. You hope she's awake.

With a jug of wicked elixir in one hand, you saunter over to the transportalizer and somehow appear on Rose's floor. You don't know who the fuck that thing works, it's like it knows where you want to mother fucking go and takes you the fuck there. Miracles brother. Since she's sharing a room with Kanaya, you know where the fuck it's at. You try to avoid that fucking room at all costs. Something can't be fucking avoided though. You enter at your own damn risk.

**You are now Rose Lalonde.**

You are currently thinking. You're always thinking, but now you're thinking about one thing in particular. Trolls. You want to learn as much about them as possible, and you tried asking Kanaya your questions, but that encounter turned into a one-upmanship battle. So here you lay, wondering how to bring about these questions to the other Trolls.

Suddenly your door opens, and a tall lanky figure steps in side. You are already equipped with your weapon of strife and are prepared for combat. The figure approaches with slow but deliberate strides, passing Kanaya's bed and heading straight for you. They have in their hand what appears to be a blunt force object. You leap at them with cat-like reflexes – inherited from your beloved pet cat Jaspers – and aim your weapon straight for their eyes. Before you could reach your target, a hand snaps up and grabs both your wrists.

"Woah sister, calm the mother fuck down." It was only Gamzee. You relax slightly, but he didn't release your wrists. How the heck did he grab you anyway? He was obviously still quite high. You tug your wrists, and with delayed reaction he releases you.

"I got fucking bored, so I decided to come talk to you." He chuckled, bringing his blunt force object, which was actually a jug of Faygo to his mouth and taking a few long drinks. You must be really paranoid. Maybe you were too busy thinking to think this one through properly.

**Whoopee, you are now Gamzee Makara.**

You decided to take a fucking transportalizer down to the living room. You didn't feel like waking Kanaya up and having the sister saw you the fuck in half. That wouldn't go down well. You notice that Rosister has been checking you out. Kind of fucking strange, but you don't mind. You plant our ass firmly on one of the antique couches, and stretch your arms across the back. Rosister seems a lot more reserved than you, of course, so she plops the fuck down in the arm chair beside you.

"Hey, Rosister. Would you do me a fucking solid?" You ask, tipping your wicked elixir to your mouth.

"Depends on the favor." She says, crossing her arms over her chest. You might have taken that as a sign of defiance if you were fucking sober… but you weren't, so all was chill.

"Can you take a mother fucking look at my hair and tell me if any of my fucking miracle eggs have hatched?"

"There's nothing in your hair Gamzee. The snow has melted by now."

"Of course there's something in my fucking hair. The mother fucking miracle eggs, sister." You reach up to pet your mane affectionately. You were hatched for this; it was your mother fucking destiny.

"The cold white stuff falling from the sky was snow. Not miracles."

You stare at her blankly, and your precious jug of Faygo slips from your fingers and crashes to the ground, spilling its orange contents all over the carpet. This. Can't. Be. Mother. Fucking. Happening. Your family of miracles… you were looking forward to celebrating their Wriggling Day with fucking joyous horn honks and fountains of Faygo… does she really mean they never existed?

"Gamzee, are you okay?" She asks, waving her hand in front of your face. No, you were not fucking okay. She just dropped a bomb of fucking massive proportions right on your head and fried every fucking good thought you've ever had. This was not going to fucking fly well.

**Beware, you are now Rose Lalonde.**

Gamzee was starting to creep you out a tad, and you didn't get creeped out by much. Something about a homicidal clown troll, staring off blankly into space made you kind of uneasy. You glance down at the bottle he dropped, suddenly wondering if that orange soda would leave a stain. There was no time to think about that, you had to snap him out of whatever trance he was in. You figured that whatever had you said about the snow had set him off.

"But I guess snow is kind of like a miracle. It's… magical how water is able to freeze and become so…soft." You say, trying to pick your words carefully. Gamzee seemed to respond to that, his eyes returned to focus.

"You could have told me that it was just snow in the mother fucking first place." He says slowly, without the usual mirth in his voice. It was steely, low, and… alluring. He drops his head in his hands, and holds it there for a moment. This was getting scary. He peers through his fingers at you, his eyes glowing in the dim light. He slides his hands down his face, smearing his makeup in every direction. A toothy grin was plastered on his face, and his long canine teeth touched his bottom lip.

"Gamzee…" You say tentatively, glancing at the door. What were your chances if you tried to make a run for it? Probably slim to none.

"Honk. Honk. Mother fucker."


	3. Chapter 3 Murderous Gaze

**You are now a quite terrified Rose Lalonde.**

What the hell is going on? All you did was correct a simple mistake of an ill informed Troll, and now he looks like he wants to beat you to death. Where did you go wrong? You stare into the sharp and quite dangerous looking eyes of Gamzee Makara as he slowly closes the gap between you. This all just seemed wrong. Trolls were hostile creatures as far as you knew, but none of them have tried to commit homicide… other than Mr. Makara. Was this going to be the last thought before you died? You were about to be beaten to a pulp and maybe even eaten, and all you could think of was how interested you were in Gamzee? It was time to strife.

You quickly pull out your knitting needles and leap into action, once again aiming right for those mystical eyes of his. Gamzee side stepped all too easily, and brought down his arm across your back, making you slam into the floor. You roll over onto your back, preparing for his attack. Instead you meet blazing eyes, smeared make-up, and pointed teeth just inches from your face. His gaze was penetrating, chilling you down to the bone. It felt good to be challenged; it made something deep inside you hyperaware.

Your mouth spreads into a malicious grin, and beyond your better judgment you whisper, "Come at me."

**You are now a quite sober Gamzee Makara.**

This damn lowblood was challenging your authority. You would show them that the royal mother fucking Highbloods were not ones to give mercy. Death was her only fucking option. You bring out your juggling club, which is best for these kinds of punishments.

"I mother fucking will." You snarled, grabbing her by the wrist, and effortlessly throwing her against the couch, knocking it over in the process.

What color was this one's blood? You didn't fucking care anyway, it would make the mother fucking prettiest thing as it splatters across the damn walls. Rustbloods were your favorite, those lowly fucking parasites that tried to live without your fucking consent. You loved the dark reds and browns, so fucking amazing. Without further a-fucking-do you step over the over turned couch, looking down at the most pathetic fucking excuse for a waste of a think pan you've ever seen. She was fucking lying there, unmoving, her weapons in a corner. This was just fucking sad. Maybe she was lower than a Rustblood; even they lasted fucking longer than this one. It was about fucking time to splatter some blood. You raise your club and bring it down…

**You are now a quite alive Rose Lalonde.**

This was what you were waiting for. As he brought down his club, you grab his wrist before he made contact with your face. Just as planned. He looked shocked for only a moment, before grinning again.

"I underestimated you, Lowblood." He chuckles darkly.

"As I did you." You respond, bringing your legs up and kicking him over the couch. You scrabble over to where you discarded your weapons and youth rolled back into action. You land on the other side of the couch, your needles down to the hilt in soft, plush, puppet posterior. Why did Dave even bring all of these with him? And where was Gamzee?

"Looking for someone?" A voice whispered close to your ear. The feeling of his breath on your neck sent shivers down your spine. You remained perfectly still, not that he would have let you move in the first place. You had landed on your hands and knees, and now his body was flushed with yours. His chest pressed against your back, his legs caressed yours on both sides, and his chin rested on your shoulder. You had never been this close with anyone before, and in such a vulnerable position…

"Gamzee. This is no time to make a move, now get off so I can kill you." You said in the harshest voice you could muster at the moment.

"Every fucking Highblood needs a slave. You're feisty and quick, a damn good sparring partner. You're not too mother fucking ugly either." He chuckles, and sniffs your hair. You didn't know anything about Troll courting, or about enslavement, but the way he was feeling on you didn't make you any more interested. You glance at the door, wishing you would have run when you had the chance. No use wishing for something that could have been, it was time for action in the here and now.

Before you could gather your thoughts into one solid game plan, you are flipped over and pinned to the floor. This was going to scar you for life; you would have to set up a therapy session with yourself. He bares his teeth and leans toward your neck.

**You are now a quite interested Gamzee Makara.**

You were just about to fucking brand this lowblood as a slave, when all of a sudden you hear the dreaded sound of a revving chainsaw. You glance up to see Kanaya standing in the fucking doorway, chainsaw ready. Oh dear Gog. You quickly push away from Rosister, and press yourself against a fucking wall. What the mother fuck was going on? You brought Rosister down here to rid the fucking boredom that was swirling around your think pan, and all of a sudden Kanaya was trying to mother fucking kill you again. You glance around the room nervously for a fucking escape route. Rose hopped to her feet; her needles pointed right the fuck at you. What the fuck was up with these sisters?

"Woah, mother fucking chill Rosister." You say, holding out your hand. She visibly relaxed, a smile appearing on her face.

"Gamzee. You need some serious help." She sighed, tucking her fucking needles away and turning toward Kanaya.

"Did he do something to harm you, Rose? I'll kill him if you would like." The jade green blooded Troll said, her eyes reading 'clown hunting time'.

"It's fine Kanaya, Gamzee just suffers from a Multiple Personality Disorder." She muttered, grabbing Kanaya's hand as she left.

You watched them leave, completely fucking confused. Did you become mother fucking sober? You look around the room, which looked like a mother fucking tornado went through it; that is, if you'd ever fucking seen a tornado before. You just assumed it looked something like this.

Time to wake up Karbrother so he can give you your 'special' leaves. You really hoped you didn't fucking hurt Rosister. You'd never forgive yourself; she was al-fucking-right.

**You are now a quite stunned Rose Lalonde.**

Gamzee was an interesting case. Two different people trapped in one body. You never thought you'd miss his stoned gaze, and his silly miracle metaphors. It really was in everyone's best interest to keep Gamzee high… you don't think you'll ever look at him the same way. There was a deeper meaning to the juggalo Troll, one in which you were very interested.

For the remainder of the night Kanaya tried to grill you for anything she could kill Gamzee for, but what happened between you and him would never be known. Maybe instead of being interested in Trolls, you were interested in Gamzee…


	4. Chapter 4 Super Sleuth

**You are now Rose Lalonde.**

It's promptly 9 o'clock in the morning and you haven't moved from your bed. Your roommate Kanaya tried to urge you out for breakfast, but that was an hour ago. You've done nothing but write in your journal, and sketch pictures on some pages. Slowly, it's turning into a field journal for dealing with the troll Gamzee Makara. So far, you know that Gamzee is a hardcore stoner. Anyone could tell that just by looking at him or listening to him talk.

But there were things people couldn't know just by looking, like his personality disorder. You're using that term for lack of a better one. How can one persons true personality be hidden just by the use of drugs? The malicious, blood thirsty, dictator intrigued you. It struck cords in yourself that you didn't even know you possessed. It brought up such foreign feelings. Maybe you were attracted to this side of him…

You've decided to ask the other trolls, collect material from the people…or aliens, who knew him best. Your best chance was to hound Karkat for information, but there was a slim chance that he would actually cooperate with you. You were willing to risk it, even if it meant putting up with that crabby trolls yelling.

**You are now Gamzee Makara.**

What the mother fuck is going on? Just yesterday the ground was fucking covered in all the baby miracles… er, snow, as Rosister called it. Damn, that girl had some weird names for stuff. But now you're looking outside and all the fucking snow is gone! Someone must have taken it all. This was not gonna fly in your book, people just can't all up and steal other peoples snow. Didn't earth have mother fucking rules for these kind of things? Well, who knows more about the earth rules than Rosister herself? You should probably ask her. But what if the mother fucking thieves come back while you're all up and gone? Who would deliver the sweet, mirthful, hand of justice to the mother fucking culprit? You decide to stay here and keep your fucking eyes peeled.

It's kind of hard to get your watch on with an empty stomach. You knew your fucking stomach was just crying out for some wicked elixir. Faygo… the mirthful messiahs gift to all trollkind. You decide that if the snow thief comes back, he won't fucking come while you're watching like a mother fucking earth hawk. Whatever that is. So you decided that a break would be all fucking right. Time for Faygo!

**You probably get the drill by now.**

Armed with your favorite pen and journal, you knock swiftly on Karkat's door. This is the moment of truth, you might actually get some answers to your questions. When the door opens you're looking eye to eye with the Cancer troll. He was really little. His sweater sleeve hung over his hands like mittens, and his pants legs nearly covered his bare feet. Kanaya must have had fits over his wardrobe. Actually… he was kind of cute.

"WHAT DO YOU WANT FUCKASS?" Alright he was a lot less cute now.

"Stop yelling, it's annoying." You point out calmly, and look past him into the room. "I have some questions about Gamzee Makara." He eyes you for a moment, and it looks like he hasn't slept a day in his life…or brushed his hair. Maybe they really didn't have brushes. But how did some of the others keep their hair so perfect?

"You're the one who woke me up with your idiotic knocking!" He really was crabby, and you have half a mind to shove your knitting needles down his throat and puncture his larynx.

"I only want to ask you a few questions, if I could please come in…" You take a step forward but he doesn't move. Instead he raises both his middle fingers up at you then slams the door in your face.

No wonder those two were best friends. He probably ticked off a lot of other trolls, and Gamzee is too high most of the time to even be effected by his yelling. You were headed down a long road with this research… but you had to know, how did Gamzee become, well Gamzee?

**Blah Blah Blah Gamzee Makara.**

That really hit the mother fucking spot. You are now heading toward your room for a well deserved nap. Watching out for those stealers of mirthful miracles really takes a lot out of a brother. For only a second you wonder what Rosister is up to, but you don't have to up and wonder for too long, seeing as she's right in front of you. It's pretty fucking cool how things just fall into place like that. Obviously Rosister was placed here at this moment precisely by the Messiahs. You've gotta remember to give them one hell of a shout out later.

"What's up sister? Why are you all up and in front of my door like that? Karbrother doesn't like visitors." It's up to you to warn her before she goes and disturbs him. Karkat was a cool best friend but he can get pretty fucking moody. But it was cool. You were pretty okay with it.

"Oh, Gamzee. I didn't see you coming up." You watch as she fiddles around with some book for a moment before she turned to walk away.

"Yo Rose, wait up!"

She stopped in her tracks and you walk up to her.

"Yes, Gamzee?"

"Well usually you fucking give a brother a few words before taking off. Is something bugging you?" You leisurely drape your long arm around her shoulders.

"Oh. It's nothing Gamzee." Suddenly she shrugs off your arm and takes off down the hallway. Man, what was up with her? Whatever it was she wanted to keep it a mother fucking secret, and that was cool. Everyone has their secrets.

**You know what, we'll mix things up a bit. You are now Carl.**

You suddenly become Carl. That is, if you haven't already spent your life being this cool dude. Some people only get to admire from afar and wish that they could even touch this man. You get to be him. Your mother must be so proud, and she is. She's looking at you right now, from the doorway as you eat all of the peas on your plate. And boy, is she proud. Where else will you ever find a mother so proud? Nowhere of course, because there can only be one "Carl's Mother".

You swallow the last spoonful of those horrid green rabbit turds, and get up from the table, without saying 'excuse me'. Look out Carl's Mother, we've got a badass on our hands. You take the latest issue of "Playboy" from the hall table and head upstairs to your room. This is where the magic happens. You open that bad boy up and nearly droll all over the pages. This magazine had everything a guy could want… a shit load of crap about video games.

What? Did you really think a cool guy like Carl would indulge himself in pornographic images? Obviously you were thinking of a completely different and inappropriate magazine. This work of art is obviously a magazine about the playing of video games by males, thus the name "Playboy". Obviously.

And just for those dirty thoughts of yours, you won't get to find out what happens next with Rose and Gamzee until the next chapter. That is your punishment. You brought it upon yourself.


End file.
